Ubiquitous

One Point for Materialism

// December 25th, 2008 // 17 Comments » // Fashion, Personal, Quotables

I logged into WP today and lo and behold, a new dashboard theme! Thank you Lene for kindly upgrading WP so diligently. Yes, it’s Christmas Break so that means I finally have time to blog (or not - the chocolates and wine are calling my name!) To the outside world my life is pretty mundane at the moment, i.e. no new obsessions, no materialistic acquisitions, no romances (boys just aren’t interested, alas). But I do love the daily nuances that pop up in my life. For example:

Mum: Hey what exactly does “XD” mean?
Me: It’s face mother. You have to look at it sideways.
Mum: I don’t get it.
Me: Come here *types out XD*, see? The D is the mouth and the X are the eyes like this: ><
Mum: That’s stupid. I still don’t get it. What does LOL mean?
Me: *headdesk*

Mind you this was right after a Facebook conversation I had with my dad.

Dad: Why can’t I see the snowman photo I just took of you Crystal? On Facebook?
Me: Oh I don’t know, you’re on my limited profile?!
Dad: WHY? WHY DID YOU BLOCK ME? MY OWN DAUGHTER. WHY?!
Me: Uh…kidding *shifty eyes* … maybe you’re not logged in probably… *quickly changes privacy setting for one album* … refresh it now…
Dad: OH OKAY I see it!

They tried to get me to teach my grandma how to use the internet. I passed. I can’t decide whether or not my parents are “at-least-better-than-most-parents-who-fail-at-computer” or just complete lunatics from whom I inherited my DNA. I still proudly announce to all my friends that not one but BOTH of my parents have Facebook lol. Watch out everyone. In a few years I’ll be trying to convince my grandkids to let me reprogram their hovercrafts.

In other news, I finally got down to decorate one of the bare walls in my bedroom. Why should I miss out the whole decorate your dorm wall thing even if I live at home?! Behold, les photos.

BEFORE. Oh dreary white walls!

AFTER.

DETAILS. May I direct your attention to DANIEL RADCLIFFE IN EQUUS, and in the right corner CHUCK + BLAIR = LOVE.

Spreads from: ELLE Canada July, Vogue September, ELLE Canada September, Glamour December. It’s deliciously materialistic isn’t it?

Merry Christmas everyone!

Popularity: 10% [?]

The Art of Negotiation

// March 22nd, 2008 // 36 Comments » // Academic, Quotables

On the phone a few days ago…

Me: I’M GOING SHOPPING!
Mum: Sure have fun.
Me: ALSO GOING OUT FOR DINNER!
Mum: Sounds good.
Me: CAN I GET A LAPTOP?
Mum: Yea okay. Call your dad.
Me: *jump up and down*

Ladies and gentleman, how does one convince one’s strict mother the necessity for the above three things - shopping, food, and laptop? Simple, one precedes the conversation with this.

Mum: Hello?
Me: GUESS WHAT?! I GOT INTO UCLA! MY FIRST UNIV ACCEPTANCE WOOOOOOT!!

The end. Go Bruins. Can’t afford it so probably not going there but oh well XD.

Popularity: 5% [?]

Miserable

// March 8th, 2008 // 6 Comments » // Personal

SPENT THE WHOLE BLOODY MORNING TYPING A PIECE OF WRITING ONLINE.

Dad comes to check his bloody email and CLOSES ALL OF MY TABS without saving.

AKSDFJLASKDFJLSADJFLKASDJFLSAK. And what’s his response when I just totally lost it? “It’s your fault you didn’t save it.” Can’t he even just say a simple sorry and I don’t know, offer an extension on my computer time? Oh yes, it bloody well is my fault for thinking the best of people.

This is just a part of my accumulation of misery. The rest…

Dear mum and dad, WHY THE HECK WON’T YOU DO THE FINANCIAL AID FORMS FOR ME? They specifically ask for PARENTS to do them, so why do you give me a ten minute screaming lecture every time I ask you the lease on our car or our mortgage? Isn’t it enough that I do them when other parents offer their kid to fill in the bloody complicated forms? AREN’T I SAVING YOU MONEY BY APPLYING TO FINAID? Oh and your excuse is … “you’re not going to get into any of those universities so why bother with the tax forms?”. It’s not like I even asked you to help with the application procedure that bogged up my entire winter break. You make me type up useless charts documenting what I’ve spent on application fees, SAT tests, and postage, and don’t give it a second look when I print off pretty pie graphs for you. I emptied out half of my meagre savings because I supposedly “over spent the budget”.

Of course, it’s all my fault.

You nag me constantly about the pettiest things, and it never, ever, ends. You were critical when I had perfect marks. You were critical when I was nine and I had to make rice every night for dinner when all the other kids were outside playing tag. You were critical when I complained about moving from city to city every few years, never staying at a school for more than two years. It’s like you have a self-recording list inside your heads and you recite off of them loudly to each other in the other room so that I could hear. SAY IT TO MY FACE IF YOU HAVE THE GUTS. Everytime I’m sad or mad, why do you think it’s something at school, and not you guys who are the problem?

Of course, it’s all my fault.

People wonder why I’m so critical of others and now I know: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Out of all of this, can’t you tell that I am, and will always be, most critical on myself?

That’s my fault too.

You know so little about my life, yet attempt to spy and control so many aspects of it. You don’t know that I rarely say extreme things because I’m afraid of regretting them later, like now. You don’t know that I see myself as a silly little girl who has too many pointless problems. You don’t know that I cry myself to sleep on way too many nights. Too stupid. Too lazy. Too useless. That’s all you know.

When I stay up late to finish projects and assignments, DO YOU ACTUALLY THINK THAT I ENJOY THEM?! It’s for the sake of finishing and for good marks that I bother. Ah but yes, I procrastinated.

Of course, it’s all my fault.

You think I spend so much time online because it’s brainless fun. Entertainment. You think I blog because I’d rather not do homework. You think I blast my music because it’s rebellious behaviour. The truth is, I’m avoiding the world and avoiding the persona I put on for the world. There are so many parts of me that I despise, and yes, I am a very insecure person. There, I said it. Mum and Dad, why do you turn everything I tell you to some sort of moral lesson that will make me feel bad about myself? I used to trust with my entire heart and soul. Now, if I confide in someone, will that secret come to haunt me in ages and ages hence? I hate it when people tell me they are “proud of me”, because those are the words that my parents uttered with a plastic smile in public to other parents and their children. I hate people’s pity. I’m sorry.

On a day to day basis, it’s pathetic that it’s my history teacher who asks if I’m doing okay. Why won’t you, or any of you for that matter, believe me when I say that I volunteer not for CAS hours or some other stupid shit this education system imposes upon us, but for the knowledge that I gave me time to a greater purpose, instead up wallowing in self-pity?

My fault, really.

To be continued when I give a damn.

Blogged on a Saturday morning, feeling like a self-absorbed idiot.

Popularity: 3% [?]

In Cloud Nine

// January 23rd, 2008 // 12 Comments » // Personal, Quotables

Isn’t it odd when an unusually large number of people have their birthday on the same day? Yesterday was my dad’s birthday (along with a handful of classmates’) and my family went to dine at the highest revolving restaurant in downtown Vancouver, called Cloud Nine. Fortunately, we had the first clear day in the past few weeks and got a gorgeous view of Downtown Vancouver, the English Bay, and North Van. It spins quite slowly so the visitors won’t get dizzy - about an hour to go around 360 degrees. I was laughing at my mum because halfway through dinner, she thought she left her purse on the window ledge (only the inner ring spins, the centre and the windows stay still) and nearly had a heart attack. It was under the table, thank goodness .

Later mother dearest was commenting how the view from our own house isn’t bad either.

Mum: YES! I measured the other day, we have a 220 degree view from our balcony!
Me: Mum, you geometry nerd! [she's an architect LAWL]
Dad: Too bad it doesn’t revolve, maybe you can spin yourself…

My family amuses me. Next week, there are my six mock exams, and I have drawn up the schedules (which I’ll probably never follow but oh well!). Luckily - can one really call this *lucky* - we’re exempt from classes next week and get a note to go home tomorrow telling those IB Parents how their sons and/or daughters will be going through the first ring of hell before long.

IB Coordinator, this cool British Doctorate: You must take this note home to your parents. We don’t want you running around the corridors when you finish your mocks, because people tend to gather in the corridors while classes are still in session.
Me: ZOMG! HE SAYS “CORRIDOR” INSTEAD OF “HALLWAY” LIKE PEOPLE IN HARRY POTTER! *SQUEEE*
My friend: Uh… yes… Crystal…
Rest of class: *thinks* wtf is she on… *goes back to studying calculus*

Gotta love sudden outbursts!

Popularity: 3% [?]